


The One Who Cared

by Geronimo_with_the_avengers



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I. Am. So. Sorry., This is so delressing, This is the saddest thing I've ever written, i can't believe I actually wrote this.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geronimo_with_the_avengers/pseuds/Geronimo_with_the_avengers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>this is a ginormous suicide trigger!</b><br/>The darkness seeps into your very being, and is there anything senseless Sherlock can do to help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Who Cared

Gasping, you looked at your face. Your pale cheeks contrasted your puffy red eyes, fresh withdark tears. The makeup you had put on that morning was smuged into tear stains down your cheeks and any traces of hiding your sadness was impossible. You just didn't feel sadness, you were sadness. No. More than sadness. Depression. Whet you had fought off for so long, trying to be happy, had finally failed and you became your worst thoughts.  
The darkness that clouded your mind was seeping into your arms and legs and was clogging the most recent cuts made. With a shaking hand, you wiped the long black trails off your cheeks. A deep breath, and you turned around. You turned on the shower to try and refresh your mind and body.  
 _(y/n)! The drain’s clogged again!_ Sherlock’s voice rang through your mind, the memory piercing the darker parts of your mind. You shrugged; it shouldn’t affect a shower.  
You peeled off your clothes. The cold water made your skin prickle in goosebumps, but you didn’t turn the hot water on. Because the biting cold was what you deserved. You needed to be punished for not being happy, for not being like everyone else. You didn’t earn to have the enveloping warmth; you needed to pay with the sharp, stabbing droplets. You quickly felt some water pool up your legs. Glancing down, you found that the drain was, indeed, clogged.  
 _If I just...no. I can’t. But it’s the only way I can get out of this darkness._ The thoughts rang through your head. But you decided to go through with your first impression.  
Kneeling down, the water raised slightly. You breathed out and threw your head into the bottom of the tub, successfully knocking yourself out. If you really wanted this to be successful, you needed to stop any second thoughts of survival before they could even arise.  
“I’M HOME!” Sherlock yelled into 221B. But he never got a reply, like normal. “(Y/N)!!!! Where are you?” He, being the worry wart that he is, automatically began to assume the worst. He tore through the apartment, phone in his hand. He prepared to text John for any help that might be needed. He passed by the bathroom and heard the water running. Automatically assuming that you were in the shower, he walked to his chair and waited for you to get out and make him tea.  
After 20 minutes passed, and you made no notion to get out of the shower. He groaned, and pulled himself out of his cocooning chair. He knocked on the door, almost throwing it off it’s hinges. “(Y/N)!!!” No response. “If you don’t reply, I’m coming in.” Still no response. He kicked in the door and didn’t see your shadow in the shower.  
Automatically panicking, he heaved the curtain open, only to find your body face first into the water. He stuck a hand into the water to try and pull you out, but realed back at the extreme coldness of the water. No human can survive in that for very long.  
Realizing you had been In there for at least twenty minutes, Sherlock grabbed for your shoulders and pulled you out as fast as possible. You lips were blue and your eyelids were a dark shade of purple, and there was also a noticeable lump on your forehead. Quickly realizing what you had done, Sherlock ran for his phone.  
"John! Get here now!" And then he hung up. He needed to try and save you, although he knew it was impossible. He had to save his girlfriend, the only one who would care for him.  
Within 5 minutes, John made it to the flat. He saw Sherlock's vain efforts, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Do something! Save her! You're a doctor, SAVE HER!" Sherlock yelled, not stopping his movements.  
"Sherlock. She's- I can't save her. There's nothing I can do." John stated.  
The realization of there not being a chance of (y/n) coming back hit Sherlock like a wall of bricks. How could he not have seen the signs? At first it was just a lack of motivation to do anything. Thinking it was just a side effect of the female menstration cycle, he brushed it off. But then she started to become more negative about herself and was always angry. And then came the sudden preference of coffee over tea. Looking at your sunken eyes, he could tell that you hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. You had dreaded sleep, since that's when the darkness always took hold of you and never let go until you woke up screaming. He thought that the nightmares had stopped, but apparently you just drowned yourself in more alcohol and caffiene to get away from them. One of the smallest things to notice was your lack of eating, but the prominent bones were a dead give away. Since Sherlock never ate, he never noticed when you didn't try to shove food into his mouth. But the baggier clothes suggested an extreme weight loss, which was true. He glanced down at your arms. Slash marks, tiny, thin scars from old and recent cutting. That explained the longer sleeves in the warmer heat. And then (y/n) stopped going on cases. Saying she was only dragging everyone down. And then she asked him the most absurd question.  
 _"Sherlock, why am I alive? What's the use of me living; why hasn't anyone killed me yet?" She asked, contemplating her own question._  
 _"Don't be rediculous. Nobody wants you dead." Sherlock replied. He thought he heard her mumble 'Unless that no one is me', but decided it was just a trick of his mind and ignored it._  
He missed all those things because he was too involved in the case that he had just completed. He didn't even think about what you were doing; he was too busy trying to save himself. He was supposed to be saving you, caring for you. Returning the favor of all the times you cared for him. And as soon as he was supposed to, he failed you. No. It was worse than failing you.  
"I let her die." Sherlock spit out.  
"Sherlock. Don't be an idiot. You couldn't have done that." John said, an appalled look crossed his face.  
"But don't you see? I could have saved her. I came home as soon as she killed herself. I could have rescued her. She wouldn't have died if I had only used my mind. If I had only been smart about this. God, why am I such an idiot?" Sherlock snapped out in anger.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so scary to write. I had just gotten the plot idea when I had the exact same thoughts that reader carried out for me. I had to walk away from writing, which rarely ever happens. Oh I am so sorry. I should have never done this to myself. But I promise there is going to be happier writing from me. I know I've said that before, but this is true. I have a very cute, fluffy idea plane and I hope it makes up for my evilness in uploading this.


End file.
